


Hard at Work

by ratsmacabre



Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 10:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17180915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratsmacabre/pseuds/ratsmacabre
Summary: Everyone needs their own Copia hidden under their desk at work.





	Hard at Work

"Do that again without my permission and I'll kick your teeth in. Understood?"

"Yes, mistress," the man at your feet whispered.

"I'm going to get back to work. I suggest you do the same."

The man was tucked away under your desk at work, kneeling between your legs. His leather clad hands kneaded your left calf muscle, working up towards your knee but not daring to go any higher and risk another scolding. His hands moved up and down, massaging the tense muscle of your lower leg. He moved to your other leg, his hands tracing the same path. His fingers brushed over the ankle strap to your black stiletto heel, itching to remove your shoes.

"Copia," you growled, using his name as a warning.

"Sorry, mistress," he whispered again and focused his attention back on your calves, this time each hand working on a separate leg. You had to admit having the little guy at your beck and call at work was nice. As long as he kept his head down and mouth shut, that is.

Nearly an hour had passed as you worked, all the while Copia stroked and rubbed your legs. He had chosen to play nice today. His good behavior wouldn't go unrewarded. You shifted your weight in your chair and brought the ball of your foot to rest tightly against his crotch. You leaned back just enough to see his eyes widen. You smiled down at him and began applying pressure, the pointed toe of your shoe digging into his soft belly. 

He whimpered. You froze, your foot still snug against his body.

"Shut... the fuck... up," you hissed.

His voice was barely audible. "Yes, mistress."

You pressed your foot harder into him, watching him struggle with the sensation. His eyes rolled back and closed as he bit his bottom lip in a desperate bid to remain quiet. He was trying so hard. Almost as hard as his cock under your foot. 

What a good boy. 

You removed your foot and he slumped over, his forehead resting on your knee. You reached a hand down to stroke his hair and you felt his breath shudder out of his mouth in a warm rush. "Oh, my sweet Copia," you murmured and slid your ass to the edge of your chair, spreading your legs so the skirt you were wearing inched up your thighs, exposing the black satin fabric of your panties. Your movement forced Copia's face closer and closer to your core, his cheek coming to rest on your inner thigh. He licked his lips. He had been a very good boy.

His fingers traced a line up from your ankle to your knee on to your other thigh and paused. "Mistress, may I?" he asked, his lips pressed to your thigh. You scanned the field of cubicles situated outside of your modest office. There were a few people milling about but nothing to be concerned with.

"Such manners," you mused. "Of course you may."

He closed the gap between his mouth and your body, his tongue greedily lapping away at the thin piece of fabric that kept you apart. The feeling of his tongue pressing the satin against you drew a soft moan from your lips. The small sound urged him on, his teeth brushing against your outer folds. He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties and roughly yanked them to the side, baring your wet pussy to him, his other hand coming up to spread you open so his tongue could draw lazy circles around your sensitive clit. You moaned again, louder this time, and Copia sat back, smiling. He loved hearing the way you moaned.

You reached down and grabbed a handful of his thick hair to direct his mouth towards your pussy again. "No more breaks until I cum, got it?"

"Oh yes, mistress," he mumbled between broad licks over your folds. He caressed every inch of you, finishing each wet stroke on your clit. Your body throbbed for him. He worked away at your core, his tongue expertly navigating over just the right spots to make your body jerk under the desk. He slipped a single long finger into you, the leather of his glove warm and impossibly soft, curling it just right to brush over the most sensitive spot buried deep inside a woman. You saw stars.

"Fuck, Copia," you said, your voiced strained. "Just like that."

He added another finger to pump into you while his tongue hovered over your clit. He knew exactly what it took to make you cum and had no qualms about doing it. He sucked on your clit, the pressure matching that which grew deep in your stomach. 

"Fuck, I'm gon-" you moaned, your fingers clenched tightly in his hair. You really should have closed your office door today. His tongue was relentless, working in perfect harmony with his fingers. One final lick was all it took before you came, his mouth there to eagerly drink in every last drop of your orgasm. Your hips bucked hard against your desk, sending a small cup of pens tumbling to the ground. A coworker started to head into your office to help clean up the pens but you waved her away. Thankfully, she got the hint and sat back down at her own desk.

Your attention was brought back to the man between your legs leaving gentle kisses on your thighs. He rolled his eyes up to yours, a mischievous grin on his face. "Was I a good boy, mistress?"

You cupped his cheek. "Such a good boy." You gave him a light smack. "Now rub my feet."

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to The Horny On Main Band. This is all your fault. 🖤


End file.
